Vanity Poems | Examples of Vanity Poetry

Labubu grins, a curious work of art, Kasing Lung’s dream, brought forth from the heart. Pop Mart displays, collecting carts start, Lisa’s embrace gives trends a new chart. People of faith, consider your part, Not every craze should capture your heart. Fame’s shining lure can pull us apart, Discernment and wisdom must always take part. Enjoy what...

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Every breath you take isn't good to take lightly Every near death experience teaches that slightly We're shown love from our friends and families constantly in every way We take their presence for granted thinking they'll be there everyday We take our five senses for granted and don't view them as gifts We live life like its guaranteed...

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In Gboko, where the dust motes dance and play, A town, a city, a people, some would say. What defines its spirit, a riddle, a quest, With a gait too familiar, putting all to the test. "Gboko!" he calls, by name, with a grin, "Seems we're acquainted, where have you been?" For here, familiar strangers, a curious clan, Know each other better...

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A silver bird departs, the sky serene, Yet morning’s promise shatters in a breath; Ash falls where laughter and bright hopes had been, A city mourns the sudden hand of death. In distant hills, a traveler’s path grows cold, A journey meant for dreams, now left undone; The news arrives—too heavy to be told— A vanished step, a race that’s never run. Where...

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If painless, enjoy the blessed moment: Like Icarus I crave the brilliant soar, back to earth~ the inevitable fall… enjoy the moment free before the sudden stop… meet me, somewhere between the top and bottom of the flop I’m buying – no strings attached.......

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it's as good an apology as I'll ever get. Red-handed is a hard spot to be, but you deleted it quick. Although it had been there since March of '24, which just means your speed was relative to matters of impending consequence, not conscience. Rest assured as inertia, I think you got it before anyone could clock the line...

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Like a dog digging bone, I hunt stories Write orgies from words known With syntax like old men's drone And metaphors overblown ...

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These broken nails Not pretty to look at, My triumphs, my fails Mean more than that Been scratching away Digging for some end, By night, by day … ‘Til they begin to bend Once polished to a shine … Is perfectly cracked, With pulled hair of mine And my nerves wracked All glitter, all gold … Neither one can stay, But, broken nails, I'm told Says something anyway. ...

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A silver bird departs, the sky serene, Yet morning’s promise shatters in a breath; Ash falls where laughter and bright hopes had been, A city mourns the sudden hand of death. In distant hills, a traveler’s path grows cold, A journey meant for dreams, now left undone; The news arrives—too heavy to be told— A vanished step, a race that’s never run. Where...

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Let he who is without vanity cast the first insult Vain to me smacks of superficialities which in the long run prove fragile and meaningless You can be proud of your accomplishments without worries of being vain Lose your hair, lose your teeth, lose your looks, lose your vanity Fashion statements Youth Dress-up make-up Forsooth A little vanity never hurt...

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She laughs, she cries, then she sighs brimming with confidence, the pain within she denies Her heart thumps then skips a beat, as she reads poetry, a taste of bittersweet In quiets empty moments, a hole remains deeply in the soul, an abyss, an unmeasured chasm It’s the space p~o~e~t~r~y fills Her personal dead poet society stirring her deepest passions awakens her dormant...

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You spent an hour in the mirror— I spent an hour in the bar. Your lipstick’s a death sentence I don’t want to serve. I walk through these rooms, thinking of small deaths, wishing I had the nerve to pack up and leave. You think I envy your silk shirts, your hair that floats like smoke. But I have my own ruin to feed with whiskey...

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Mirror, mirror on the wall, tell me the truth, tell me all. The passing of youth, and of dreams young. Reverence for the truth, songs of the heart, freely sung. I see the happy days of innocence, the fond memories of childhood. The unquestioned acceptance of all things pure, all things good. Mirror, mirror on...

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Flames that ignites bright red at its core, ravenous hunger linger overwhelmed by its hot desire and through the night it burns, its visible heat scorches the skin of its next victim, leaving a mark of sole ownership, it kisses endearingly seducing in enchantment, torturous feeling reigns in a field of thrones caused by a leakage of subtle attraction, a rose in its prime curves and twists along these...

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orchid blooms skiting elegance high on a stick ~ vanity rainbow AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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